


Five Times Fish and Harvey Didn’t Have Sex, +1 Time They Did

by aunt_zelda



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Femdom, Intimacy, Kindness, Literal Sleeping Together, Prostitution, Scars, Slow Burn, Threats, Voyeurism, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5525861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fish and Harvey's developing relationship over the years, plus something at the end that I really hope happens for real on the show. Spoilers for Season 1 of Gotham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Fish and Harvey Didn’t Have Sex, +1 Time They Did

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bbunny (brodeurbunny30)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodeurbunny30/gifts).



> This is a treat. I was going through the prompts by fandom and was really taken with your prompt (http://brodeurbunny30.livejournal.com/579425.html) One thing I always wanted was more about Harvey and Fish. Their relationship is so fascinating and we barely found out anything about it on the show itself! So I explored some ideas in fic and well, here it is. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the results. Happy Yuletide!

1.

He notices her by the bus stop, a skinny, tiny woman in a tiny fluffy coat that barely covers her decently. She’s got legs that “go all the way down,” as his father would say. Harvey looks at those, of course, but he also looks at her eyes. There’s bags under them, and a pinched look to her face that means she hasn’t been eating much lately. 

She notices him looking and sidles over to him, shifting her weight and angling her hips so he knows what she’s offering before she even opens her mouth. 

“Evening, officer,” she drawls. Her tongue darts out, traces her lower lip quickly. 

“Evening, ma’am,” he says, scanning the street. He spots a cluster of women like her nearby, and a few men stationed at various spots along the street. Most would miss the men entirely, but not Harvey. She’s protected, to a degree, at least. 

“No need to be so formal, officer,” she laughs a little, and it doesn’t sound fake. “Looking for … someone?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Harvey shrugs. He prefers to purchase a woman’s time at a motel, or a club, not down an alley, but that doesn’t mean he’ll dismiss the idea outright. 

“Want me to introduce you to some of my friends?” she asks, nodding at the cluster of girls huddled by one of the bus stop signs. There’s even a boy or two among them, Harvey notices. Gotham’s ladies of the night are reaching across the aisle, apparently, which is news to Harvey. 

“No thanks,” he decides. 

A flash of irritation crosses her face, but she quickly masks it. “Well, I’ll stop bothering you …” she turns to go.

Harvey makes another decision. “Hang on, wait.”

She freezes, shoulders tensing. 

“Lemme buy you a coffee,” Harvey waves a hand at one of the nearby storefronts, no more than a fold-down countertop under an awning bleached from years of rain.

Her brow creases, but she follows him to the counter, watching him curiously as he orders two coffees. 

They stand against one of the brick walls, sipping the coffee slowly. It’s not the best, but it’s not the worst Gotham has to offer in terms of a hot brew on a cold day. 

“So …” she rocks on her spiky heels. 

“Yeah?” Harvey asks, sipping his coffee. 

“Police do get a discount, but not that much of a discount. It’ll cost more than this,” she holds up her cup.

Harvey sighs. “Not today, ma’am. Tell ya what though, for wasting your time,” he hands her a couple fivers, and nods to the storefront. “Your ‘friends’ looks pretty cold too. Not to mention the big guys giving me the stink eye. Should be enough there for everyone to get warmed up.” 

She stares at him, stunned. 

“Have a nice day, ma’am.” Harvey tips his hat to her and saunters off. 

 

2.

Harvey doesn’t recognize her at first. He’s been sent to a crime scene and told to drive one of the women down to the station to book her. A defiant woman is forced into the back of the car, and Harvey drives off into the night. It isn’t until he stops at a red light and turns slightly that he recognizes her. Different wig, better clothes, but it’s her alright, the same woman from the bus stop. 

She locks eyes with him. “Hello, Officer,” she smiles, eerily calm, like she isn’t in the back of a police vehicle at all, like they’re meeting in a bar somewhere. A classy bar, with mood lighting and such. 

“Evening, ma’am,” Harvey says. The light turns green and he focuses on the road. “Sorry to be seeing you again under these circumstances.”

“You should pull over up there,” she says, nodding to a parking lot beside a string of empty storefronts. 

“And why should I do that?” Harvey asks.

He’s expecting her to offer sex. Plenty of people do, from the back of a Gotham PD car. And plenty of officers take them up on it. Harvey’s seen it happen before, with his mentors, and kept driving sometimes. He’s never felt tempted to try it himself, but this woman … there’s something about her …

“Because soon, I’m going to be a very important woman in this city. And I never forget a face.”

Harvey’s about to laugh her off, but her tone makes him pause. She sounds serious, dedicated, utterly convinced of this fact. He’s heard politicians who sounded like that. 

“Remember the first time we met? That street by the bus stop? All those girls, and the pretty boys? They turned their profits over to me. Those men watching you? They were my men.”

Harvey whistles, impressed. So young, and already running a crew of her own. And that was months ago, she’s clearly moved up in the world.

“It’s up to you, Officer, but I think it would be in your best interest to let me go tonight. You have nothing to lose, and quite a lot to gain.”

Harvey frowns, stopped at another red light. He could keep driving, take her to the station, or he could pull over and let her out. 

“And what do I tell my Captain, when he asks what happened to the woman in my car?” Harvey asks.

“I’m sure you can think up a reason as to why you would let a beautiful young woman off with a stern warning,” the woman purrs. 

That’s true enough. The Captain probably wouldn’t even reprimand Harvey about it.

Harvey’s frown deepens, but he pulls off into the parking lot anyways. He gets out of the car and paces a bit, considering the door. He’s done his share of less than legal things with Gotham P.D., but this is crossing a line.

She stares at him, wide eyes framed by the long blonde hair of her wig. 

He opens the door. “Come on,” he nods. 

She gets out, clumsily due to the handcuffs. Harvey unlocks them, taking care not to touch her more than necessary. As he pockets the cuffs, she turns, looking at him curiously. Her eyes move to the backseat of the car, and back to Harvey, eyebrow raised in a silent question. 

“You know your way home from here?” Harvey asks.

“I’ll find it. Thank you, Officer,” she smiles warmly.

“Stay safe, ma’am, these streets are dangerous after dark,” Harvey says, only half joking. 

She smiles, shark-like. She’s the dangerous one on the streets after dark, and Harvey should really be going. 

He nods to her and gets back into the police car. She’s gone before he pulls back into traffic. 

 

3.

It isn’t until next year that he meets her again, and this time she’s very different. New hair, more power, and a nightclub of her own in fact. She’s the “proprietor” of a fancy new club downtown, a restaurant with a stage for live performers. It’s a front for her criminal activities, and rooms upstairs for one-on-one sessions with some of the “waitresses” if one so desires. 

“This is Officer Bullock. Say hello to the lady, Harvey,” his commanding officer nudges him.

She looks him over, eyes wide, lips curling. “I do so love to meet new people,” she purrs. “Fish Mooney, I own this place.”

She remembers him, of course. Just like he remembers her. 

They’re playing a game, then. 

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Harvey says, smiling his most sincere smile and taking her offered hand. He kisses the spot just below her wrist, feels her bracelet against his lips before he draws away. 

They don’t interact for the rest of the night. Harvey’s commanding officer is given the star treatment, free booze, a lapdance from one waitress, and he leaves for the rooms upstairs with two other waitresses on his arms. Harvey sits at the bar and waits.

Fish sidles up to him with something red and bubbling in a glass. “On the house, officer.”

He takes it and nods in thanks. “You weren’t lying, were you?” he says in an undertone. “You really did become an important woman in this city.”

Her eyes flash. “Don’t know what you mean, officer.”

“Hey, it’s not just you who ‘never forgets a face,’” Harvey points out, sipping the drink. “Nice, what’s it called?”

“Dead Men Tell No Tales,” Fish smiles at him and lays a hand on his arm, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. 

Harvey nods slowly. “Good name. And good advice. I’ll take it to heart.”

She smiles and saunters away. 

 

4.

After the Goat, Harvey decides to get very, very, very drunk. He ends up at Fish’s place, woozy and well beyond three sheets to the wind. The bartender keeps giving him drinks, red and blue and green and every color of whiskey brown, and then just gives him a bottle. Harvey drinks it all. 

“Evening, Detective Bullock,” Fish says.

Harvey looks up from the forest of glasses around him. Fish appears like a vision before him, a vision in scarlet and gold. 

“Evening … ma’am …” Harvey manages. 

“I think you’ve had more than enough tonight,” Fish says, nodding at the bartender, who begins taking Harvey’s glasses away. 

Harvey shakes his head sadly. “She was so young, Fish. Just a kid, and he killed her, right in front of us.”

“I know, Harvey,” Fish lays a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a terrible tragedy.” 

“Someone should have stopped him, before it came to this,” Harvey growls. “Someone … anyone …” he can feel his eyes welling with tears. That poor kid.

“You did your best, Harvey. It’s over now.” Fish is so close to him now, trying to meet his eyes. 

Harvey leans forward and kisses Fish. 

In an instant, there’s hands on him, yanking him back. Her guards, big men who are strong, so strong now that he’s three sheets to the wind. He’s seen them subdue men before, for far less.

“Boss?” they ask of her, fingers digging into Harvey’s shoulders. 

With a wave of her hand, she could end him. Harvey wouldn’t be able to fight them off. 

“He’s drunk, leave him be.” Fish says, brushing off her sleeve.

They let him go and Harvey staggers, almost falls over. He catches himself on the bar. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That wasn’t right.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Fish agrees. She gestures upstairs. “Any woman, on the house. Go. You deserve it, Detective.”

He does, he really does. He staggers upstairs, picks one at random with dark hair and dark eyes, and follows her into a room. It’s over embarrassingly quickly, but he insists on getting the girl off too. Or, at least, trying long enough that she fakes it for him. She leaves and he falls back against the pillows, staring at himself fin the mirror on the wall. All he can see is that poor kid dying, over and over again. 

He’s crying, halfway to blacked out, when he feels Fish’s hands on him. She leads him somewhere, down corridors and stairs until he’s dizzy. She lays him down somewhere soft and tells him to rest. He can’t argue with that. 

He wakes up in her bed, alone. It’s not a room he’s seen before, and since it’s behind a secret door in her office he suspects not many people see it either. 

 

5.

It takes more than a simple apology to make things up to Fish, after the whole Jim thing. Going to stop the killing, threatening Fish over the phone, that was a bad move. Harvey doesn’t know what got into him. Gordon’s crazy, that must be it, and crazy is catching. Or something. 

“Harvey, Harvey, Harvey,” Fish shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

Harvey gulps. It was dangerous, coming here, with Fish still seething about what he did. But it’s also what has to be done, to make things up to her. “Whatever you want. You call the shots.”

“Yes, I do. Not you, not that cocky new bastard Gordon … me.” Fish considers Harvey from behind her desk. “On your knees.”

Harvey does as he’s told, wincing slightly. At least it’s carpeted. 

“Crawl over here.”

Harvey sinks onto his hands as well, and crawls forward. 

“Stop.”

Harvey does. He’s finding it difficult to breathe normally. A woman giving him orders like this, especially Fish, it’s … well, it’s getting him going. The fact that Fish could have him killed at any point during this should be undercutting that. 

It’s not. 

So Harvey’s got some fucked up kinks after a few years on the force. So sue him. 

Fish flicks one of her feet into his hand. Stockings, but no shoes. “I think you know what to do.”

Harvey does. He rubs her foot, slowly at first, speeding up in intensity. 

Fish squirms and makes little noises. Harvey wants to look up, see her face right now. But that isn’t allowed. Eventually she pulls her foot back and gives him her other foot. He does the same, face heating up. He’s hard, and if she looks down she’ll be able to see that.

“Oh, Harvey Harvey _Harvey_ …” Fish purrs. “You’re a good man. And a good man is hard to find in this city.”

Harvey shrugs his shoulders, keeping his eyes down. 

Fish slides her shoes back on. “You can go now. Go upstairs to room … hmmm, room three. Any woman, on the house.”

Harvey’s face turns even redder. He stands up and leaves, knowing that Fish can see his erection. He doesn’t bother to cover it up, he just staggers out and heads upstairs. He grabs a bottle on his way up, chugs it before entering Room Three. 

There are a few women waiting upstairs. Evidently Fish called ahead because they offer, one at a time, until he picks one. He picks up a bottle and drinks half of it, already feeling the alcohol numb his buzzing nerves. 

The woman is beautiful, curvy, perfect. She’s not Fish though. 

She does her best, which is pretty wonderful. Harvey falls back onto the bed and she writhes above him for a while. It’s not working though. He gently lifts her (she’s a tiny thing for all her curves) and crouches on the floor between her legs. 

“You tell me if I’m doing something wrong, ok?” Harvey says, fingers stroking up her thighs. 

She nods, shocked but clearly eager about the new turn of events. She warms to him faster as he actually gets his mouth to work, her thighs clutching around his head. That’s good, because he can pretend it’s Fish up above him instead. 

When he rocks back on his heels she’s panting, half out of her dress, eyes dilated like she’s high. 

“She’s watching, right?” Harvey asks, nodding to one of the mirrors on the walls. “She watches sometimes.”

She blushes. “Um, I don’t …” 

The door is yanked open. 

“Go back downstairs, Evie,” Fish says, not unkindly. 

The woman stumbles, bowlegged, because even drunk, Harvey can show a girl a good time.

Fish shakes her head as Harvey staggers to his feet before her.

“Christ, Harvey, you’re a mess.”

“And whose fault is that?” Harvey slurs, stupidly, foolishly. He claps a hand over his mouth. “Shit, sorry, Fish, I didn’t mean … I … I’m drunk, and you’re … you’re _perfect._ ” He wants to cry. “I’ll just leave.”

“You’re in no condition to go anywhere.” Fish says, arms crossed. 

Harvey snorts. “Fine, I’ll just sleep here.”

“No, you will not.” Fish sighs heavily. “Follow me, if you can.”

He can, barely, stumbling against the walls as he does so. She leads him through a secret door in her office, down a staircase that almost kills him twice, and finally into a room he remembers from many years ago. 

“Fish …” Harvey stares at Fish’s bedroom. “I’m …”

“Drunk. And going to sleep it off here. Nothing else.” Fish points to the bed. “Get in.”

He does. She pulls his shoes off and throws a blanket over him. 

Harvey watches as she removes her wig, her jewelry. He wonders who else gets to see her like this, without her armor. Probably fewer than a handful of people, probably most of them dead now. 

She slides out of her dress, climbs into bed beside him in a slip and nothing else. 

Harvey wants to say something profound, meaningful. He wants to thank her for forgiving him, for taking care of him, for letting him see her as who she truly is, not the performance she puts on every day. 

Instead, he slips into the sleep of the drunk, and when he wakes, she’s gone. 

 

+1

She’s alive. 

Harvey doesn’t care how, or why it took her so long to resurface, but Fish is back, and that’s all that matters to him. 

“This where he got you?” he asks, tracing the new scar. 

“Yes. Just a few millimeters off, and the doctors wouldn’t have been able to save me.” Fish shivers. “It was a near thing, just the same.”

Harvey squeezes her hand. “I’m glad they saved you.”

“I am too,” Fish forces a laugh, harsh to Harvey’s ears. There’s a bitterness to her that wasn’t there before. She’s lived a dozen years since that night, Harvey can tell. 

They’re lying in a bed, sheets still tangled around their legs. He didn’t waste any time in kissing her the moment they were alone, and she wrapped herself around him and then there was a bed, and clothes being pulled and unzipped, and finally, finally, Harvey was on his back with Fish above him. He even managed not to embarrass himself, lasted a good length of time and got her over the edge before himself.

“We should have done this years ago, Harvey. What were we thinking?” Fish asks. 

Harvey shrugs. “I’d have been down, if you’d just said the word.”

Fish laughs. “That was obvious.”

“I speak from the heart, me,” Harvey grins. 

“You’re a man who knows what he wants. A _man_. Maybe that was my mistake. All those silly boys, and girls who wanted a mother. I’m done with that. No more boys, no more girls.”

“Well, don’t be too hasty,” Harvey says. “Not on my account. At least, not about the girls …” he chances a lascivious look. 

It earns him a light thwack on the head from Fish’s hand. More of a pet, than a smack, an endearing gesture. 

“We’ll see about that. Are you going to seduce Detective Gordon while I watch?”

Harvey splutters in shock. 

“No? Well then, no pretty shows with me and a girl for your enjoyment. Fair’s fair, Harvey. I’m done playing games like that for show. If I take a girl, it will be because I want her for myself, no one else.” Fish stares at the ceiling. “No time for that though, not now. I can’t let myself be distracted. Oswald has to pay for what he did to me.”

Harvey nods. That creepy fuck needs to go down for all he’s done. Fish is a criminal sure, dangerous, but she has rules, she keeps her business clean and doesn’t involve outsiders. The Penguin is a menace to Gotham and needs to be stopped. 

“Anything you want, anything you need, you just say the word.” Harvey promises. “I’ll help you take him down if that’s what you want.”

Fish turns to him, smiling like he hasn’t seen her smile in years. “I think that’s an excellent idea, Harvey. Then she leans over and kisses him.

They don’t get to much plotting for the rest of the evening, but well, Harvey’s ok with that too.


End file.
